Like Father Like Son: Son Gohan
by The Rev
Summary: Piccolo was forbidden to train Gohan, and Goku was killed by Vegeta. Desperate to avoid a war, earth has handed itself over to Frieza. Several warriors still train in hiding, and one boy's life hangs in the balance. This is the story of Son Gohan, struggl
1. Default Chapter

  
  


1.   
  


It was amazing how easily the treaty with Frieza's empire had been. To avoid bloodshed and war, the people of earth had been perfectly willing to hand over their freedom. They didn't have much choice, not with Goku dead, and all the rest of earth's warriors forced into hiding, but it was still amazing how easily they had done it.   
  


It wasn't as bad as some sceptics had thought it would be. They weren't all slaves, and you wouldn't be killed on the spot for voicing your opinions. But there were the down sides. All of the humans with a power level (most of them didn't even know what that was) of over twenty were hunted down and killed. If you made any kind of physical contact with a member of Frieza's royal guard, you would be carted off to prison.   
  


No one knew what 'prison' was for them, and no one wanted to know. All they knew was that they never saw the 'prisoners' again.   
  


It had been a simple matter, really. At first, people thought that Frieza would demand some sort of retribution for Radditz, the saiyajin warrior that had been killed in the battle that had also ended Goku's life for the first time, but there was none. Apparently, warriors were so plentiful for Frieza's army that he didn't care.   
  


No one seemed to care that their freedoms were gone. They were just happy that they were still alive.   
  


But there were a few that still fought in hiding, a few that still trained in hopes of one day overthrowing the oppressive empire, impossible as it may have seemed.   
  


+   
  


Gohan zoomed across the sky, high above the clouds, riding on nimbus. Of all the things he had been able to learn from the various Z fighters before the battle, he wished he had been able to fly. But there wee other things.   
  


Just before it had happened, Bulma had given them all a watch that blocked scouter signals. Even then, she seemed to have known that they would need them. He had kept his, because even at five years old he had had a very realistic view of the world. He knew their chances. Luckily, he had been wearing it when they had come after the people with high power levels to kill them.   
  


He had no idea if the others had survived. It was possible. Since the first sweep of the planet, there had been no further checks. He was grateful for that.   
  


It had been two years since then. He was seven now, practically an adult. He helped his mom as well as he could. He was, after all, the man of the house.   
  


But once in a while he did have to get away, and just ride nimbus in the only private place that there was anymore: the sky. He thought about a lot of things, like his father, and how he would love to be strong like that. It didn't matter that his father had lost to Vegeta. Because somehow Vegeta still didn't seem like a real person.   
  


He often wondered if the others were still around. Krillin, and Tien, and Yamucha. They were all nice. Piccolo was kind of scary, but even he would have been some comfort, some kind of tie to his father, who he missed more than anything. His mother was all he had, and she...   
  


Well, ChiChi wasn't the same since Goku died. She still loved him, and showed it, but it wasn't the same. She was angry a lot more, and often Gohan saw her crying for no reason that he could see, except for that she missed Goku as much as he did, even more.   
  


He didn't know if that was possible. But it sure looked like it.   
  


He silently willed nimbus to speed up, and as always, the cloud responded instantly. The wind whipped over him, ruffling the cloth of his yellow and green robe that his mother always had him wear. He had left his hat at home, the one with the four star Dragonball on it, because he knew it would have flown off. His short cropped black hair whipped around his head.   
  


He had been working on building up his endurance for a long time now. Every chance he got, he was training himself, trying to make himself strong like his father. He was making progress, without a doubt, but he still wasn't at anywhere near the levels of the other Z warriors.   
  


He could move enough ki to create very strong wind, strong enough to break large branches off of the trees around his house, but not enough to make a visible blast, like his father's kamehameha. That was his goal; to be able to do a kamehameha. Once he had reached that point, he would worry about going further.   
  


He didn't know it, but the point he was at was absolutely extraordinary for a young boy, even one who was half saiyajin. Especially for one who had only himself to train. If he could have had a teacher, his potential was huge.   
  


He heaved a deep sigh, and swung nimbus back around in a wide loop, checking the cloud's speed as he did so. It was time for him to be getting home.   
  


As he got closer and closer to his house, he got the feeling that something was wrong, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Something was out of place, something that he was so used to that he didn't notice until it was gone.   
  


He was almost home now; he could see the hill that formed what would be their back yard.   
  


It came to him, in a flash like being hit by lightning. He couldn't sense his mother's ki.   
  


Terror gripped him suddenly and coldly. He would have made nimbus go to maximum speed, if he wasn't already moving over the hill.   
  


There was nothing where his house had been but a large charred circle on the ground.   
  


+   
  


Krillin sighed. "I wonder sometimes why we bother." he muttered under his breath. He hadn't meant for anyone to hear, much less answer him, but Kami's lookout was so high up and the air so clear that the tri-clops across the room from him did both.   
  


"We bother because there's absolutely nothing else to do." Tien said, grunting in effort as he lifted the seven hundred pound weight for what must have been the thousandth time in the last hour. "Except for dying, and I don't plan on doing that anytime soon."   
  


A small smile snuck across Krillin's lips, and he once again went to work on pushups. Normal pushups would have done him absolutely no good, no more than it would have done him to lift a feather a few times a day, but he was hearing a cape and turban, with two hundred and one hundred pounds of weight in each. They were really too light, but he didn't feel like pestering Kami for some new ones just yet.   
  


He couldn't remember any time when he had trained so hard with such little hope of accomplishing anything. He knew as well as Tien and Choutzu did that it would be ten years at least before they could build up the kind of power Vegeta had possessed, and by that time he was sure to have advanced far beyond that.   
  


And never mind Frieza. Or his royal guard.   
  


But Tien was right. It was either this or die. Or go insane. Neither idea was particularly appealing.   
  


Of course, maybe someone else could do what they couldn't. Kami was still alive, so that meant Piccolo was still around somewhere. And they had seen Yamucha once or twice since the shit had hit the proverbial fan. And it was possible that any number of people could still be alive and training in hiding, as they were.   
  


He sighed again and continued doing his pushups. This day, like every other one they spent training on Kami's lookout, was going to be long.   
  


+   
  


If Choutzu had been looking even a bit the other way, he would have zoomed right by Gohan without even seeing him. But luckily he was looking down and to the left, and saw the crouching child in the middle of the charred circle of land.   
  


Checking his speed immediately, he lowered himself just a little in a wide loop, so that he could get a better view. He was already sure that it was definitely Gohan, and equally sure of what had happened. But he wasn't sure what to do about it.   
  


A crying child always made him act impulsively, however, and this was no exception. Maybe it was because he was considered to be an eternal child by so many of his acquaintances, or maybe it was because he had seen so much suffering lately that it all got to him, but he felt more sympathy for the small boy than he had felt for anyone in a great while.   
  


He landed softly behind him.   
  


"Gohan?" he said quietly. Though Choutzu's high voice could hardly be perceived as threatening, Gohan spun around in alarm, quite fast for someone with almost no training, with malice in his eyes. Choutzu himself looked even less threatening than his voice sounded, unless you were trained well enough to sense hidden ki. The look of rage vanished from Gohan at once, and he only looked gut wrenchingly sad.   
  


Just looking at him made Choutzu feel sad. The depth of pain in those far too young eyes was horrible to see. Immediately, he walked toward he boy, who was actually taller than he himself was, and put one small hand on his shoulder.   
  


Gohan didn't say anything. He simply collapsed onto Choutzu's shoulder, sobbing. The former emperor tried his best to comfort the boy, rubbing his back soothingly and letting Gohan get it out. Perhaps the boy would have cried on anyone's shoulder at that point, but Choutzu was a familiar face, a friendly familiar face.   
  


How long this went on neither would have been able to tell, but after a while the sobs slowed to an occasional sniffle, and Gohan did the most natural thing of all after crying so hard. He fell asleep.   
  


Which left Choutzu in a pretty hard predicament.   
  


What was he to do with Gohan?   
  


He could take him to Kami's tower, but he had no idea how the others would react. Krillin would be happier than anything to see the boy, but Tien might react a little differently. A seven year old child would hardly help their training. Kami was likely to agree.   
  


He could take Gohan to capsule corp., except that he wasn't going anywhere near a city, not with Frieza's imperial soldiers on every corner. His power level would be picked up before he got within miles of the place. Not to mention, Bulma was busy enough as it was. She didn't need a kid, even a kid that was as nice and self sufficient as Gohan was.   
  


What did that leave?   
  


"Well," Choutzu said to himself, "he looks plenty strong, and I can't leave him out here alone. He'll want to train, wherever he goes, and there may just be one person who'll be able to do it."   
  


He smiled and flew off toward home, Kami's tower, but first he would drop off Gohan at Korin's.   
  


+   
  


A huge ugly building served for the guardhouse in capitol city. It was basically a huge cube, painted some strange orange color that looked like long ago congealed orange juice. Inside, the top half was divided evenly into one thousand rooms of about five feet square each; they were the guards quarters. The bottom half was divided into four large sections that were used for a sort of office building, and a smaller set of rooms, much more luxurious. They were the captain's quarters.   
  


Inside on a plush looking chair, finished in fine blue cloth, sat the captain himself, captain Farrus. He didn't look like anything one would meet on earth. His skin was a purplish red, the color of dried blood, and his hair was a pure white, and cascaded down his shoulders in waves and rippled, until it hit the small of his back, where it was neatly clipped. His face had no nose or mouth, only two wide, staring eyes that were the only normal part of him, looking just like large human eyes. He wore a long black tunic over the regulation armor.   
  


In front of him cowered a for once humbled cyborg Tao Pai Pai. He was holding up a Dragonball. The four star ball, to be exact.   
  


"I was forced to kill a woman, she tried to resist my taking the ball, but other than that, there were no problems."   
  


Tao did not mention that he had torched the house after taking the ball. He didn't classify that as a problem, he classified it as covering up a problem.   
  


"Very good. That's four now isn't it?" Farrus said, his voice coming from god-knew-where.   
  


"Yes, captain. The other three will be your's soon."   
  


Farrus' eyes brightened, and if he had a mouth, he would have been smiling. "Very good. I'm sure that Frieza-sama will reward you for your excellent work once we have them all."   
  


Tao stood and bowed, but it was plain that he was still trembling. "Thank you, captain."   
  


"Dismissed." Farrus said, and Tao bowed quickly and left the room, as fast as he could without seeming rude.   
  


Farrus gazed silently at the ball that Tao had left at his feet. After a second, his soft laughter filled the room. 


	2. Chapter Two

  
  
  
  


2.   
  
  
  


Gohan's eyes opened slowly, still bleary and tired from sleeping for so long. He stared up at the ceiling above his bed, not moving or even thinking. For the life of him, he couldn't even remember where he was. The ceiling was white, the sheets were white, everything he could see was white.   
  


He sat up slowly, and saw that he was on a pallette spread out on the floor. The floor itself was a smooth white marble, cool and pleasant to the touch. He lay back down, not wanting to think or remember for just another minute. Some part of him knew that thinking about what had just happened to him would be horrible. Or, at least, he thought it had just happened. He had not idea, though, how long he had been asleep.   
  


Suddenly he sat up straight again. He heard voices.   
  


When he sat up, surprised full awake by the sound of at least two people quietly talking, he also remembered.   
  


"Mom." he whispered to himself. At least, he meant to whisper, but what came out was a half sigh half sob.   
  


The voices stopped instantly, and he heard footsteps from beyond the huge central pillar of the place. When he glanced that way, he also saw the sky around him and realized where he was; Korin's tower.   
  


He stood up slowly, not really able to take his mind off of his mother, no matter how much he wanted to, but wanting to be polite to whoever was coming toward him all the same.   
  


The owners of the voices rounded the pillar, and there were three, not two. One was Choutzu, one was Korin, and the other was a large man that Gohan had only seen once, and vaguely remembered as Yajirobi.   
  


"Gohan, I see you're awake." Korin said with a grin. "How are you feeling?"   
  


Gohan shrugged. "Okay, I guess."   
  


Korin's smile slowly disappeared. "I see. Listen, Gohan, I don't know how else to break into what I need to tell you, so I have to ask. Do you know what happened?"   
  


Gohan's brow wrinkled in confusion, and he shook his head. Then suddenly, he contradicted himself by nodding.   
  


"My mom's dead, isn't she?"   
  


The baldness of this statement that wasn't even a question shocked all three of the people in front of him, and it was several seconds before Choutzu finally broke in and said:   
  


"Yes, she did. We're sorry, Gohan."   
  


The young demi-saiyajin nodded, looking down at his feet. "So, what happens now?" he asked.   
  


"We don't know." Korin said. "But you can stay here, at least for a few days. By then I think Choutzu is going to have other...." he glanced at the small warrior briefly. "Arrangements."   
  


Choutzu nodded. "It shouldn't take longer than that. Maybe less."   
  


Gohan's sighed heavily. He was grateful for how kind they had all been, but there was never a question in his mind about simply staying up here. He had to do what his father would have done. 

"I'm sorry. I know you're all trying to help, but I can't just stay here."   
  


No one said anything. There was nothing to say.   
  


"I have to find out who killed my mother, and then avenge her death." he said. He marched off across the floor of the tower, presumably intending to call nimbus and fly off.   
  


But before he could so much as say anything, he felt a hand on his arm. He turned, expecting to see Choutzu, and seeing Yajirobi instead.   
  


"Listen Gohan," he said softly, but Gohan stopped him with a look of utter rage. It wasn't rage at Yajirobi, really, but rage at everything, at the sudden huge turn his life had taken.   
  


Gohan tried to pull away, but Yajirobi's grip was solid.   
  


"We want to help you." Korin said. "We want you to have the proper training, so that when you fight you'll be sure to win."   
  


"That's right!" Choutzu put in. "You can train with Tien and Krillin and me! When your done, you'll be as strong as your dad, even stronger!"   
  


Gohan's anger seemed to vanish. "You mean that? I can be like my dad?" he asked. Tears suddenly sprang back into his eyes. "I can... I can be a hero?"   
  


Yajirobi smiled and let his hand fall gently from Gohan's arm. "Yeah. That's what Goku was, alright. A hero."   
  


+   
  


Tien's eyes went wide. "Are you NUTS!? Bringing a little kid up here to train with us? It's dangerous!"   
  


Choutzu sighed. "But he can do it. He wants to, Tien. I all but promised him he could. Besides, at least this way he'll be safer than he would be out there."   
  


Tien sighed heavily, crossing his arms and closing the bottom two of his eyes, leaving the top one open to regard Choutzu cooly, a gesture that unnerved everyone until they got used to it.   
  


"So, you want me to take time off of my own training to help train a kid, who has never had any fighting experience, and will probably just get hurt or give up, causing any time we spent on him to be wasted?" he opened his eyes again.   
  


Choutzu gulped and nodded.   
  


Another deep sigh escaped Tien's mouth. "You get to watch him, Choutzu."   
  


A huge smile spread across the small warrior's face as his friend turned and walked away.   
  


+   
  


Krillin sat, his knees drawn up and his chin resting on them, just looking at Gohan. The kid wasn't even waiting for instruction, he was already beginning his own clumsy, child's version of training. But, although it was clumsy and childish, it was also extraordinarily good for being invented by a child.   
  


Most kids, Krillin reflected, would have charged straight into trying to do a thousand pushups, or lift huge eights, or any number of things that would only get them hurt. But Gohan appeared to know, at least a little bit, what he was doing. He might have picked up a few things from watching Goku train, or he might simply be a genius. Or maybe a little of both.   
  


First, he did a quick series of stretches, a lot like Goku's, but different enough so that it was visible that he had added a few of his own touches. Then, after the stretches, Gohan did a series of fifty pushups, a good number for a kid that hadn't been much trained. After that, the major flaw in his training showed. He plowed headlong into an attempted kamehameha.   
  


"Umm.... Gohan?"   
  


He jumped visibly at Krillin's voice, mainly because he hadn't even noticed the warrior monk yet. Krillin had flown immediately down after he had heard that Gohan was here, not waiting to try and convince Tien with Choutzu. But when he got here, he had been so mesmerized by Gohan's training that he hadn't spoken.   
  


"Krillin!" Gohan's face suddenly broke into a smile, and he ran over across the floor, wrapping his arms around Krillin's waist in a tight hug. Gohan knew very well that he had been Goku's best friend. And he liked Krillin anyway, because he was always nice and talked and played with him.   
  


"Hey, kid." Krillin laughed and returned Gohan's hug. "It's great to see you."   
  


Gohan looked up at Krillin and smiled, grief momentarily forgotten. "Choutzu said I get to train with you guys!" he said happily. "You wanna train now?"   
  


Krillin couldn't help but smile back, even though he knew that it would take a lot of convincing to get Tien, not to mention Kami, to let a child up there to train with them. Anyway, he could at least give the kid a few tips.   
  


"Sure, why not?" he said, and Gohan smiled even wider.   
  


"I was trying to do a kamehameha." Gohan said, pronouncing each syllable of the attack name carefully. "But it's really hard. All I can do is make a lotta wind."   
  


Krillin raised an eyebrow and put a hand on his chin, looking thoughtful so that it wouldn't look to Gohan like he had just pointed out some obvious mistake. Stuff like that discouraged kids.   
  


"Well, why don't you show me how you did it." he said.   
  


Gohan nodded. "Sure!"   
  


Krillin took a few steps back, and Gohan took his position, facing out toward the endless sky, his body cocked slightly to the right.   
  


"Ka me...." he started, and cupped his hands in front of him, not quite right, but not bad. It was easy to see that he had learned how to do by watching, but he only made a few mistakes. He had his hands a little far apart, which made it hard to really gather energy.   
  


"Ha me..." he said, and cupped his hands behind his back. Now there was a more pronounced error. His hands, instead of being held in a tight cup to ensure that no energy escaped from the cupped palms, his hands were facing more outwards, almost flat back. He was probably letting more energy escape than he was gathering.   
  


"Ha!!" Gohan thrust his hands forward, and a huge blast of wind, strong enough to blow up dust from the floor and send it shooting off into the sky, blasted out and away.   
  


Gohan stood back into a normal position, breathing a little heavily. "Well, was that good?"   
  


Krillin nodded slowly, still making himself look thoughtful. "Yeah, it was pretty good. It took me years to learn how to do a really big kamehameha, and you're already pretty far along." he paused. "But Gohan, watch me. Pay special attention to my hands behind my back."   
  


Gohan nodded, eyes wide in awe. He hadn't seen anyone do a real kamehameha since his dad had died.   
  


Krillin assumed the same stance Gohan had, facing the sky, torso slightly to the right.   
  


"Ka me..." he said, and it was much more visible that he was gathering energy, because the effort could be heard in his voice.   
  


"Ha me..." he put his hands behind his back, making a tight cup, but waiting for a second to really push the energy so that Gohan could clearly see the position of his hands.   
  


"Now, see how my hands are cupped together?" he said as the energy began to glow in them. Gohan nodded wide eyed as the light of the ki illuminated his face. "That keeps the ki from escaping."   
  


"Ha!!!" he threw his hands back out in front of him, and a white and blue beam of energy, more than a foot across with a huge ball at the head, flew outward into the sky with a faint sizzle of ozone, like lightning. Krillin turned the beam up slightly so that it wouldn't demolish the rail on the edge of the platform.   
  


After a second, when the attack was done and the beam out of sight, he stood back up and mopped sweat from his forehead with a sigh.   
  


"See? It makes a lot of difference just how you put your hands."   
  


Gohan was almost jumping up and down. "Wow!! Can I do that, if I put my hands right and everything?"   
  


Krillin laughed. "Probably, with a little training. But not right now, okay? We have to show you how to warm up and stuff first, or you could hurt yourself."   
  


Gohan, his newfound perpetual good cheer not daunted in the least, only nodded and smiled up at Krillin.   
  



	3. Chapter Three

3.

Kami gazed at the two warriors in front of him with wide eyes, wondering if they had lost their minds.

"You want me to let you bring a child here to train? Do any of you realize how dangerous it would be for him? The intensity of the training is too much for any boy of his age!"

"Well, normally I would have to agree with you." Krillin said uncertainly. "But this is Goku's son."

Kami shook his head. "Asking Gohan to do the things Goku did would not only be foolish, it would also be potentially harmful. While the boy may have potential, asking him to do the amazing amounts of training Goku did would most likely only discourage him, and he could hurt himself physically if he tries."

"But Kami…" Krillin tried desperately to think of how to effectively convey what he could tell about Gohan. "If anyone can fill Goku's shoes, he can. I don't know how to tell you what it is about him, but there's something in Gohan… I mean, he never had any teachers but himself, and he can already almost pull off a kamehameha!"

The old guardian puzzled over this, wondering. To believe that anyone, even Goku's own son, could do the things that Goku could do, would be completely illogical. But just maybe he could give the boy a small test. Something that would take a little while, and not only prove whether or not he could handle training, but to sharpen him, and toughen him.

Because if Gohan was to fill Goku's shoes, he would have to be extraordinary in everything he did, as far as training went. Because Goku had been extraordinary.

"Perhaps we can give him a try. But not here, not right away." Kami said slowly. "I'll have to think of something, but in the mean time, he can start where everyone starts. He needs to climb the tower, and then come here on his own."

"But he's already at Korin's." Choutzu said. "And we have to keep him there so he doesn't try to leave on his own."

"He climbs the tower or he doesn't train." Kami said. "Period."

+

One hour later…

The village at the bottom of Korin's tower was in a part of the world where it was always either around eighty degrees, or it was snowing and freezing. They seemed to have winter and summer, but nothing of the pleasant in between of fall and spring.

Right now, it was cold.

Gohan shivered under the cloak that Tien had given him as the big tri-clops, holding him, descended rapidly down, the magic that kept the temperature on the tower at a comfortable degree fading into a cold chill that seemed to seep into his bones. He wasn't sure why Krillin and Tien were taking him down to the earth.

He was wrapped in a white cape, wonderfully thick, but not really good enough to keep out the wind at this high speed. He curled a little tighter into Tenshinhan's side, hoping that he wouldn't mind. Tien didn't even react, so he assumed the answer was that he didn't.

He could see Krillin's face if he opened his eyes, eve though the wind hurt them. The usually cheerful monk looked unusually grave, not even looking at Gohan, but straight down to the ground as they flew.

It amazed the young demi-saiyajin how huge the tower was, as they finally arrived at the bottom and he jumped down to stand on his own feet. Krillin and Tien flew fast, but even then it had taken close to five minutes for the trip down the tower. He couldn't see the top, no matter how hard he stared up into the swirling snow that had chased the villagers into their houses.

"Gohan," Krillin began, sounding as grave as he looked. "When you said you wanted to be trained and be a hero like your dad, did you really mean it?"

Gohan nodded fiercely, wondering why Krillin would bother to ask a question he knew the answer to. "I have to try, at least, so I can get the people who killed my mom."

Krillin looked at him a moment longer, taking in the boy's face, as if measuring how serious he was. Then he spoke.

"The first thing you have to do, to prove that you're tough enough to take the training, and that you have the determination and will, is to climb this tower."

At first Gohan didn't seem to hear, or think Krillin was joking. "What? Climb the tower?"

Krillin nodded. "All the way to the top. That's how Goku started."

The demi-saiyajin's eyes went wide. "But… that's got to be miles tall!!"

"Miles and miles." Krillin agreed. "But if you can't do this, you can't take Korin's training, let alone Kami's. good luck, Gohan. I'll see you at the top." Krillin made a slight smile at the end, then leapt up into the air, aura blazing as he shot up to the top of the tower again.

Gohan stared after him for a minute before he realized that Tien was still there, regarding him mildly.

"You have it tougher than Goku did." Tien said after a second. "It was at least warm when he did it. But I bet you can pull it off anyway."

Gohan raised his eyebrows. "You really think so?"

Tien nodded slowly. "Yeah. I do." He said thoughtfully. "Just remember not to look down, or think about the long distance ahead of you. Only think about the next step, or the next handhold, and you'll be at the top before you know it."

He took off now, as well, leaving Gohan to look at the tower.

He wondered how he was supposed to climb this thing. There weren't any steps, or a ladder.

But… the whole pillar had been carved into geometric designs quite deeply. Maybe…

He grabbed one diamond, about eye level, and dug his fingers into the cracks, then stepped only a little ledge that was really only a raised triangle that circled the tower. 

It held.

Gohan started climbing to the top.

+

Piccolo sat in the air, legs crossed, eyes closed. He was meditating, as anyone could tell. But most people didn't know the real meaning of the word, or even have the foggiest grasp of what it really was.

To meditate, you had to get your mind to a state called the Void. Mind of no mind. You had to think nothing, only feel. It sounded easy, but easy was the furthest thing from how it was. To sit in complete silence, and think of nothing at all, was maddening. That was why Piccolo always did it near a waterfall; the rumbling of the water helped him to drift.

After reaching the particular state of the Void, you had to be able to let your mind tune in. and those two hard steps were all it took. Once you were tuned in, you knew exactly what was happening around you, and in some cases far away. Your mind could drift, or you could even, if you were skilled enough, send your spirit out of your body for a while to travel the miles, if you wanted.

This was where Piccolo was now, though he was only outside of his body and next to it, living for a moment in this strange soundless world, where there was no physical sensation. In this way he was an observer, and could only affect the physical world through the minds of others. 

He was tuned in completely; Piccolo stared across the landscape toward Korin's tower miles away; he could actually see it, even though it was far out of sight in his body. He was watching Gohan. As he did, he began to move closer.

The boy was about a mile in the air, less than a fifth of the way up the tower. Yet with the blowing wind and cold snow, his entire body was numb, and the namek was sure that he would never make it to the top. Gohan would never give up, but his body could quit on him even so.

Now he was so near he could see how the boy's fingers were turning blue at the ends. Gohan's eyes were half shut as he slowly found each handhold, and to Piccolo they looked dim, as f Gohan had shut out the world of sensation so that he could continue up the tower.

The namek was stunned by the boy's determination, though he had no idea why Gohan was climbing the tower in the first place, he had sensed ChiChi die the day before, but he didn't connect that event with Gohan's climbing. 

Then, quite suddenly, Gohan's head turned, and eyed Piccolo with a dim awareness. An awareness that, despite Gohan's nearly passing out condition, left no room for misunderstanding.

Piccolo jumped when he realized Gohan could see him.

+

The explanation is actually easy.

Tien had given Gohan the piece of advice not to look down, and not to think about how far he had to go, or how far he had come. Only think of the next handhold. Gohan had taken this advice to heart, and that combined with the cold of the increasing storm had made him reach almost the same state of no mind required for intense meditation. Completely accidental, yet it probably saved his life.

Because when he looked over at Piccolo's spirit, the semi-transparent image of the namek startled him, and snapped him back to reality just enough so that he could feel the cold. It had been hours since he started climbing, forced by the snow that had kicked up into a blizzard to go slowly, and he just couldn't hold on.

His hand slipped. That was all it took, and Gohan fell off the tower and began to plummet downward.

+

Piccolo reacted instinctively. He wasn't really on anyone's side yet, but he knew that he couldn't let Gohan fall to the ground and die. Not only was the kid abnormally strong, a fact that Piccolo had noted when he first saw the boy, but he was Goku's son, and Piccolo had gained at least enough respect for the saiyajin to make sure his son wasn't killed.

So he shot his spirit back toward and into his body, moving almost instantly into the physical world with it's feelings and sounds. The second he was in his body, he flared ki around him, throwing off the weighted cape and turban as he launched into the air.

Gohan was miles up, but he was falling fast, and Piccolo was far further from the tower than Gohan was from the ground. In truth, he didn't know if he could make it. But that didn't slow him down. If anything, he moved faster than he ever could have normally, knowing a life was at stake.

He could see the tower, was coming up to it now. And he could see a small figure plummeting down through the snow, at speeds sure to crush him when he hit the ground, which was now not far at all. He strained for more ki, the split second seeming to stretch into an hour as he tried to get to Gohan before the frozen ground did.

It came to the balance of a hair, and if he hadn't had the ability to extend his limbs, Piccolo never would have made it. He shot them out as he dove, and caught Gohan under the arms with both hands only a foot from the snow.

He drew the kid back, pulling him close to his chest on instinct to keep him warm. Gohan, who was shivering like a leaf in a gale, opened his eyes slightly and looked up into the stern face above him.

"Piccolo-san…" 

Then he closed his eyes, and didn't open them for twelve hours.

Author's Note: I wanted t write a scene of Gohan climbing the tower and showing the snow getting worse and finally going into a full fledged gale, but after numerous attempts that all went to the recycle bin, I decided that it would be better to just leave that out and imply that the weather had gotten worse. Hey, maybe not quite as good as a well written scene, but it works. Ciao. 


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four:

Krillin paced back and forth nervously across the white tile of Korin's tower, muttering to himself. He wasn't liking the recent turn of events in the least. Mostly because he didn't trust Piccolo, and because he felt quite suddenly protective of Gohan. As if, when he had convinced Kami to take the boy for training he had unwittingly assigned himself the role of protector, at least for now.

"Why did we have to make him climb the tower today?" he grumbled. "Why couldn't we have waited until it was a little warmer?"

"Maybe," Korin suggested with a shrug and a small smile. "It was fate."

Krillin sighed and continued pacing. He got pretty irritated with psychics sometimes, because they almost never explained themselves. They just did what they did and gave no explanations, and hoped it all worked out for the best.

The monk preferred to take a more cautious role in things. Like, say, not wanting to send a kid out to climb a few miles in a storm. But Kami had said to start right away, so they had started right away.

And now Gohan was with Piccolo.

Krillin wasn't the only one who was afraid of the former self declared demon, even though he had fought on their side against Vegeta and Nappa. There was just something about him that was too… untamed. Piccolo wasn't totally one of the good guys yet.

So having Gohan with him made Krillin plenty nervous.

Even so, Krillin would have gone to retrieve the boy despite his fear. He had been exactly where he was now one half hour ago when Gohan had fallen, and had been ready to dive down and save the kid, but Korin had forbade him. 

That irked Krillin. Korin told him he couldn't go rescue his best friend's son, and he had listened.

Because on some level, he trusted the gods' judgement over his own.

So if Gohan was to be with Piccolo for now, no matter how dangerous it seemed, that was the way it was going to be. But he wasn't sure about it. Not at all.

+

The first thing Gohan saw when his eyes opened blearily was sky. Clear, blue sky. And he heard a strange roar, a sound that was familiar but that he couldn't place.

He groggily pulled an arm up to rub his eyes, wondering where he was. The last thing he could clearly remember was starting up the tower in a moderately wild snowstorm. But… he couldn't still be anywhere near there. There was no snow, no wind. And it felt warm.

He sat up, slowly, pushing a cover off that he hadn't even noticed was there. He glanced down at it.

A weighted cape.

Gohan's eyes widened a bit. What was going on? He moved the cape off of himself, carefully folding the portion of the cloth that had been covering him over the weighted part. He had no idea where it had come from, but right now he had bigger things to worry about. Like where he was, and who had brought him here.

This wasn't much of a mystery, however. His memory was coming back in a trickle now; he could remember that he fell off the tower, and that someone had caught him. But who?

He looked again at the weighted cape next to him, and then a little further down… there was a turban, made of something purple and wrapped in white cloth. He hadn't noticed it before.

Who wore a cape and turban like that? Gohan remembered easily enough, and his guess was confirmed when a voice said dryly, "So, you're finally awake."

The demi-saiyajin spun around to the source of the sound, and saw exactly who he had known he would see; Piccolo, sitting cross legged in the air, meditating. He had spoken without even opening his eyes. And the familiar roaring sound was explained as well, because there was a waterfall directly behind him.

"…Piccolo-san?" Gohan addressed the namek politely. "Where am I?"

"South." The namek answered shortly. "I took you south." 

Gohan raised an eyebrow. "How come?"

"Because." Piccolo opened one eye, irritated. "You were coming down with a bad case of hypothermia, and you needed to get warm. Now shut up for a while, I'm meditating."

Gohan nodded, and sat back down, trying to stay quiet and think his way through this mess. South. Well, that could cover a lot of places, couldn't it? And how was he supposed to get back to Korin's tower?

"Piccolo-san?"

The namek growled low. "What?"

The boy shut his mouth, whatever question he had been about to voice unanswered. Evidently, Piccolo wasn't much of a conversationalist. Gohan didn't think about such things in any degree of real complexity, because even at a young age he had an exceptional ability for understanding things easily, his brain working them out without him almost. This actually made things easier sometimes, but other times it made them harder, because he understood a great deal, but in a more vague way than most people who would have perhaps been slower on the uptake.

He decided to follow Piccolo's advice and shut up for a while. Maybe he could do a bit of exploring, see what the surrounding area was like. He had no intentions of running. If he had known how to get back, he might have considered it, but even on nimbus, he wouldn't have a chance of finding his way to Kami's tower. He was so far away he couldn't even feel the kis of everyone there. He wasn't precisely sure how he was able to sense life force, or why, but the ability was so ingrained in his mind that he had never questioned it. Not being able to sense anyone he knew now made him uneasy.

Well…, he could sense Piccolo. Maybe the namek wasn't really friendly, but his ki was at least one that Gohan knew, and so he took what comfort from it he could.

He began to pace away into the woods, keeping himself focussed on Piccolo's ki signature so that he wouldn't get lost.

+

The namek felt him leave, but did nothing to stop him. Now that the kid was safe, he didn't feel the need to protect him so urgently. Although he knew in the back of his mind, without really admitting it to himself, that he would not hesitate to save the kid again.

It was probably a good thing for Piccolo that Frieza's empire had moved in so swiftly to take control after Goku's death. He needed something impossible to shoot for, and the goal of becoming as powerful as the planet pirate reportedly was would be a goal comfortably out of present reach.

And, of course, with someone so powerful ruling the planet, any faint urges he might have to attempt taking over as he had desired to before were quietly shoved aside as being impractical. 

And now there was an interesting possibility that had occurred ton him, almost making him glad the kid was gone for a few minutes so he could have some time to think.

He had wanted to train Gohan very badly when it was time for the saiyajin to come. Almost badly enough to kidnap the kid. But he would never have done it against Goku's wishes. The rest of the z warriors' opinions mattered to him about as much as…. Well, nothing. But much as he hated to admit it, if they all ganged up on him they might have a chance at beating him, at least for long enough to get Gohan back.

So he had let it go, something he didn't do too often, and which he now regretted. He should have pushed it. Maybe then, Goku would still be alive. Maybe if he could have held out, somehow gotten Kami to back him up, they would have listened.

Should've, would've, could've. He hadn't _done_ anything, and there was no point in dwelling on the fact now. The possibilities of the present were far more important than any past failings that couldn't be changed.

Now Gohan was here, with him. And Kami and the others must not intend to do much about it, or they would have already come for the boy. Now was the time to attempt to repair the errors of the past by trying with all his effort to improve the future. 

It might not do any good. Gohan was a kid, and by the time he acquired anywhere near the power required to beat the various enemies that held them in check, many developments could take place. But maybe not.

He knew he had been right when he sensed the hidden power in the boy, and his estimates of before had no limit. Gohan had been able to more than triple his power at times of extreme anger. But his problem was that fear always held him back. It was as if in the heat of the moment he would forget to be afraid, but when the enormity of his power showed, his fear cut back in and cut it off. He was scared of himself, in other words. Scared of himself and what he might do, even if he was too young to realize it.

The first focus of training then, if he did indeed train the boy, would be to get him past that fear. Once he was able to teach Gohan to use the power he had, then he could instruct him in some of the finer points of combat. 

Piccolo was not a teacher by nature. Or at least he didn't think so. He was aware that trying to explain how to perform techniques that came naturally to him would be hard, especially when the person he was teaching was young child.

But the difficulties were far outweighed by the results he wanted and needed. He had to train Gohan, and he wasn't going to let any doubts get in his way.

A/N: Sorry I've been so long in updating this fic. I'm trying to pick it up again, so we'll see how it goes. 


End file.
